Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

"Offline time: three hours, sixteen minutes and fifty-eight seconds—"

The numbers kept jumping, and in the blink of an eye it was the next minute.

"Why did you go offline for so long?"

Next to it was a simple map that recorded Huang Wuye's current location - it was exactly the address of Yizhitang that he had found on the official website.

This is just a self-made dialogue program and cannot monitor the status of its components in real time.

If Mr. Huang Wu did not enter the offline state on his own initiative, then he was "broken into" and forced to shut down by external force.

After losing the "wetware" that could spray out from his nostrils and forcibly connect to his spiritual orifices to the upper body, Master Huang Wu was left with only the "Wumingzhao-A" prosthetic limbs to deal with head-on combat.

But the extremely fast speed and the liquid bulletproof mechanism under the fur are not something that an ordinary pharmacy can handle:

"I thought it would be able to run away even if it encountered an enemy it couldn't defeat."

Before, Fang Bailu only suspected that there were clues about Yuhuage in Yizhitang, but now he can basically confirm the correctness of his guess.

"What the hell is the yellow dog thinking... No, it's impossible."

With "The Tightening Curse·Change" engraved in its underlying logic, Master Huang Wu could not even think of betrayal or resistance.

Most likely, it collided with another force that was looking for Yuhuage, and even engaged in a battle.

Fang Bailu raised his head - through the numerous buildings, he could catch a glimpse of the unique spire of Xianying Palace.

If it was the Microcomputer Taoism Research Society, it would not be surprising that Master Huang Wu, who was skilled in special operations, had his whereabouts exposed and failed to escape. And the clues about Yuhua Ge should have been obtained by the forces that shut down Master Huang Wu.

And the tablet computer actually showed that it was still in Yizhitang and had not been taken away for dissection...

Fang Bailu knew without much thought that this was probably a trap to lure him in: the other party also wanted to find out the insider and the instigator behind this dog-shaped monster.

"Tsk, that's difficult. Should we go get it back?"

If we just go there, we might have to fight with an enemy who is already prepared - with this in mind, if we want to retrieve Master Huang Wu, whose life or death is uncertain, we will have to take a lot of unnecessary risks.

"Besides, it has been offline for so long...it's hard to say whether the yellow dog is completely damaged."

Do you want to pay a visit to Yizhitang? But this is probably a losing business.

Fang Bailu scratched his forehead with his little finger and sighed.

Strangely enough, his thoughts suddenly jumped out of his mind:

Compared with dogs, I like cats more - I don’t have to take them for a walk or spend time training them to go to the bathroom; they are much easier to raise.

But that was a thing of the "previous life": in the past three years, Fang Bailu could count on one hand the number of cats and dogs whose appearance was similar to that of hundreds of years ago and in line with the old aesthetic.

The appearance of Mr. Huang Wuye's old-fashioned Chinese pastoral dog gave Fang Bailu a sense of familiarity.

Although it was constrained and tortured by the "tightening curse and reform", and was forced to surrender to itself and became a "contracted laborer" without salary; but...

"It's bionics are really well done, just like a real dog. And it's more useful than a real dog."

Fang Bailu poked the tablet computer that only showed the offline time and real-time location, and in his mind, he saw a vivid dog head made up of character sets and a carefully optimized interactive dialogue interface.

"This yellow dog is really talented and can work very efficiently. I think it's one of the top ten employees in the visualization. The burnt dog head is so ugly."

He subconsciously put the cigarette into his mouth. The damp cigarette had a faint musty smell that was hard to dissipate even after it dried.

Snapped!Snapped!

Fang Bailu took out the lighter from the cigarette case, held it with one hand to protect the weak flame, and used it to light the cigarette.

Only God knows how many disposable lighters humans have produced... Even though cigarettes have become a luxury item, you can still find several deflated lighters in Fang's Hardware Store.

"Without fire, there is no smoke, no success."

Fang Bailu recalled the witty remarks he had heard in his "previous life": in order to avoid not being able to find a lighter when he needed it, he stuffed a lighter into the half-empty cigarette box like he had obsessive-compulsive disorder.

hiss--

Fang Bailu took a deep breath, and the damp musty smell and the burnt smell of tobacco rushed into his mouth. Then he twisted his face, feeling dizzy and seeing stars: the tall buildings around him were dancing a strange and funny dance around him, and the puffs of rain in the distance were turning into mysterious arcs.

This was a case of smoke intoxication caused by lack of oxygen to the brain because he hadn't smoked for a long time.

Fang Bailu held the filter upside down, using his palm and five fingers to protect the gray-red cigarette butt that was burning unpleasantly: this smoking gesture, which could easily burn oneself, was not very common, but it could block the invasion of wind and raindrops and prevent the cigarette from getting wet.

Perhaps nicotine really can stimulate thinking, he suddenly made up his mind.

Fang Bailu shook off the ashes from his cigarette, took another deep puff, and blew out two streams of smoke from his nostrils:

"Forget it. I'll go back and ask Xiaoxin to implant my Dantian for me, and then go save that yellow dog - well, mainly because I don't want to see that disgusting future come true."

Although Fang Bailu was reluctant to admit it, it felt really good to have a dog.

Chapter 150: Feeders and Eaters (Part )

Park Wenzhi is very distressed now.

The sound of rain outside the wall seems to never end; the continuous sound almost drives people crazy.

His hands were pressed against the seams of his trousers, his neck was erect, and he lay on the rough ground like a corpse - if you looked down from the ceiling, Pu Wenzhi seemed to be standing upright.

As the only hacker in a suburban horse gang, he always felt that he was out of tune with the life of horse thieves: and this feeling has lasted for a long time.

This is not because Park Wenzhi is not used to drinking industrial alcohol diluted with water.

There were not many people from the same hometown who could successfully leave Goryeo and come to Malaysia to make a living. Park Moon-chi was an outlier among them: he came to Kuala Lumpur to escape his complicated and difficult to sort out past.

“Ah… Tsk.”

Park Wenzhi uttered a low groan: his wandering thoughts brought back painful memories of the past:

He shouldn't, really shouldn't, be thinking nonsense in the great scholar's live broadcast room and slandering the debate between the saints that has lasted for a thousand years.

"……stop."

Catching the thoughts surging in his mind, he subconsciously used the program of studying things in his external consciousness to cut off the distracting thoughts.

Even though he was halfway across the world from his hometown of Goryeo, Park Moon-ji still feared the eyes of his "king and father" that covered everything in the world:

Who knows if the surging waves in the brain will be captured by "Him" and bring about fatal disaster again?

"To, to vote for the world, to support the people... to kill the poisonous ones for the saints, to praise the people for all eternity..."

"Time flies by, day and night - from ancient times to the present, only the king and father are my life."

As he climbed to his feet, he muttered a prayer in a trembling voice and wiped away the hot tears that were rolling down his eyes.

This series of prayers is a compulsory course for every Korean. It must be chanted ninety-nine times every morning, noon and evening, and is compiled into the deepest and most basic level of the outer consciousness.

The excited tear glands and the trembling of the whole body are set conditioned reflexes, used to express the supreme loyalty to the emperor, father and 72 great scholars who debuted, and the determination to always push forward alone.

Deep down in his heart, Park Wenzhi still remained calm enough; this ritualistic behavior was just his subconscious self-protection.

"Boss, Bangzi is crying and mumbling some weird things again."

Opposite Pu Wenzhi, another horse thief squatted on the ground and sneered with disdain.

Before being born, the innate Qi of himself and other fellow countrymen had been modified countless times, striving to replicate the appearance of Pan-Asians.

But unfortunately, after living in Goryeo as the king and father's private concubine for more than 20 years, Park Moon-ji's bloodline would be discovered by the true Pan-Asians at a glance.

Even those barbarians from barbarian lands such as North America and Europe can see their differences after getting along with them for a period of time.

"Shut up and keep an eye on me."

Night Owl turned his head, his moist eyes that never closed lingered on Pu Wenzhi's face for a moment, then turned back again. He uttered these words slowly, with long intervals between each word, like a slow-play recording.

His feet were nailed into the ceiling, hanging upside down in the center of the room. His modified lumbar spine could rotate 360 ​​degrees, allowing Night Owl to patrol the surroundings like some kind of terrifying alien:

Just the slow rotation of his upper body along with his lumbar spine makes one wonder how efficient he can be.

The horse thief shrugged and continued to clean the gun barrel in his fingertips. He would occasionally wave his middle finger, which had a firearm embedded in it, at Park Wenzhi, whether it was contempt or threat.

Pu Wenzhi felt an indescribable fear and awe towards Ye Xiao, the leader of the suburban horse caravan - that pair of gray eyelids were too similar to the image of the king and father in his dreams.

He knew the hostility of the other bandits towards him: Goryeo was close to the Pan-Asia-Pacific dreamed of by countless people, but was not accepted by it - this was reflected in real social interactions, making others jealous and despised him.

There was no shortage of strangers among the suburban horse caravans, which meant that Park Wen-chi was always surrounded by hostility and bullying.

But he had gradually gotten used to it. As long as he imagined himself still in the strict hierarchy of Seoul, life would become much more comfortable and familiar.

Park Wenzhi breathed a sigh of relief and used his five fingers to comb his long hair that had never been trimmed. When he escaped from Goryeo, he did not have time to perform the coming-of-age ceremony and had let his hair hang loose.

"'Book Burner'! Do your job well."

Night Owl let out a deep roar. He was calling out Park Wenzhi's hacker name, which was also Park Wenzhi's code name in the caravan.

"...Yes...Okay..."

Park Wenzhi murmured yes and then threw himself into his busy work.

He could easily endure Ye Xiao's torture and torment, but Park Wenzhi was still immersed in the horror of thinking of his king and father just now.

He gently adjusted the neural circuits and connected them more closely to the interface of the spiritual orifice, as if he was experiencing the joy of the boudoir with his assigned wife.

Of course, before she had the chance to participate in the "coming-of-age ceremony" and lose her virginity for the first time, Park Moon-ji left Goryeo.

But he didn't care about it.

"Sansheng", or what the new Malays and those strange and magical practitioners call "divine travel", is his love. In Goryeo, you can't travel so freely in the digital space.

Only Confucian idols who are close to forming a group, and great scholars above them who are able to start live broadcasts, are qualified.

Therefore, Park Wenzhi still cherishes every opportunity to connect to the Internet and conduct "self-reflection".

If quality prevails over culture, the person will be uncivilized; if culture prevails over quality, the person will be pedantic. Only when quality and culture are in perfect harmony can one be called a gentleman.

This is the name assigned to him by his father, the king, and it also represents the vision of the entire Goryeo for him.

But Park Wenzhi prefers the hacker nickname he gave himself. This nickname contains his little resistance and imagination——

The last two words had been cleverly erased from his memory of Chinese, so they would no longer cause any unnecessary associations.

In the suburban horse caravans, Pu Wenzhi usually plays the dual role of scout and general:

If a caravan passed through their hunting area in the wilderness, Park Wenzhi would take the initiative to gather intelligence and launch the first wave of attacks.

The same is true in this exquisitely decorated medicine shop and Yizhitang - almost the entire suburban horse caravan has come out in full force and stepped into the city, but he is still the simple and elegant pioneer.

In the center of the lobby of the drugstore next door, there was a monster that he had subdued:

Including the sniper fire points that had been set up outside the pharmacy, there were a total of about thirty horse thieves who set up traps around Yizhitang.

This went against the working habits of the suburban caravans, which were to retreat after one strike and leave with the spoils, but no one objected - because it was the order of the leader, Night Owl.

Originally, according to Park Wenzhi's habit, it would be enough to just make some changes in the body of the spirit that he had forcibly taken offline and install the reverse tracing software:

Once the mastermind behind the monster comes to retrieve it, it will be easy to capture the other party's position.

But the usually bold and aggressive Night Owl unusually chose to set a trap in Yizhitang.

Park Wenzhi twisted his fingers, having a bad feeling.

Wasn't it a little too easy for me to take that spirit offline? In Pu Wenzhi's experience, it takes a lot of time to subdue a full-grown spirit.

But a simple exploratory attack directly brought it down - and it wasn't even the "Supplement to the Doctrine of the Mean" that Park Wenzhi was best at.

Although his own school of origin law is quite different from the magical methods popular in New Malaysia, it is not the case that the enemy will fall before he can even exert his strength.

But Park Wenzhi said nothing:

He was once the sword, axe and plowshare created by the king and father with the help of the people, but now he is just a tool of the caravan.

He is not used to making decisions or questioning. Admiration and execution are Park Wenzhi's way of survival.

Chapter 151: Feeders and Eaters (Part )

After a long time, the target of the ambush by the suburban caravan finally appeared:

A young man wrapped in a windbreaker used a talisman to pry open the locked window pane of Yizhitang and climbed into the dark pharmacy where the lights were not on.

The outside of Yizhitang was lit up with holographic spotlights indicating "out of business" - anyone who tried to force their way in at this time was either an empty-door guest or a prey being waited for by horse thieves.

Dozens of surveillance cameras were installed throughout Yizhitang, and the monitoring network covered every corner of the pharmacy: from the crudely processed plastic chairs in the lobby that pretended to be elegant to the dazzling array of medicine racks and laboratory tables.

This was what Park Wenzhi secretly took away from the academy when he left Goryeo - in Kuala Lumpur, there is no other surveillance mechanism comparable to Goryeo goods.